


True Blue

by morrezela



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Homophobia, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Military, Same-Sex Marriage, Secret Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-04 05:09:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/706924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morrezela/pseuds/morrezela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen Ackles is a die hard military man. He just happens to be gay, fall in love with and marry another man while Don't Ask, Don't Tell was still in effect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	True Blue

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a comment fic meme on my own journal. All mistakes you find are my own.

Jensen is a true blue, one hundred percent, all American, Texan patriot. He’s spent his life dedicated to the cause of freedom. The first Fourth of July parade his daddy took him to, his eyes had gotten wide at the sight of all the fireworks and even wider when his dad told him all about the brave men that had fought for his country’s freedom.

From there it just sort of became a thing. As a child he was obsessed with right and wrong and liberty and freedom. As a teenager he was obsessed with good grades and physical fitness and getting his letters of recommendation to get into West Point.

The requirement of not having a child to support was probably the easiest thing to meet. It was a convenient excuse to not have sex with the all American blue eyed blondes that he dated throughout high school.

And then there was the academy and the training and the fighting to be at the top of his class. From there it was commissions and tours of duty and assignments all over the world.

Then he met Jared. Stupid, smiling, happy to be alive Jared who Jensen had thought he was going to have to hate on principle alone.

But Jared was from Texas too, and he had shot more than his share of firearms. He loved good beer and barbeque and his momma and God even though he owned an ungodly amount of paisley for anybody but a seventies enthusiast.

And yeah, Jared and his dimples reminded Jensen just exactly why it was so easy to not knock a girl up.

Jared was a civilian engineer working on a project near Jensen’s stateside base, and despite his career and his better intentions, Jensen found himself spending all sorts of time with the guy and his two, animal-rescue-thank-you-very-much, dogs.

Then Jensen got his orders. He was being sent to the Middle East. He was being sent into honest to God trouble, and he was proud to do it. He’d spent his whole life with the mission of being the good guy. He was what the armed forces was supposed to be, and he was going to make his uniform proud, damn it all.

That didn’t mean that he didn’t have to face the fact that he was fucking in love with Jared Padalecki and his spastic, clumsy ways.

Like any stereotypical soldier, Jensen decided that he needed to get himself married before he left. Obviously the requisite knocking up of his new bride wasn’t going to happen because despite Jared’s love of pink he didn’t actually have ovaries, but Jensen still wanted to have that ring on his finger. He wanted that claim on Jared.

Still, proposing marriage to your out and proud best friend when you’re a seriously and dedicatedly in the closet military man? That had been the definition of insanity.

Luckily for him, Jared agreed. He’d been fucking thrilled because apparently he was all in love with Jensen and thought he had no chance.

It wasn’t legal, of course, to get married in the state that they were in, but they found a church and a couple of Jared’s friends to attend their commitment ceremony anyway.

They spent any free time that Jensen had after that screwing like rabbits.

Jensen changed around his legal papers to give Jared everything he could in the case of his death. It wasn’t much, but he didn’t want to leave his spouse bereft should he be coming home in a body bag.

He didn’t tell his parents. He sure as hell didn’t tell his commanding officer.

Jared though, Jared cried and clung to him their final night together. He wasn’t a pretty crier. His nose was too large to keep the snot in and his exotic eyes looked horrible when they got all puffy and red from crying.

“Promise me, Jensen. You promise to come home. And you damn well better get rid of that stupid commission. I don’t, I don’t care. I want you to be home and be safe, and I want to adopt doggies and kitties and little underprivileged babies from third world countries with you.”

Like a good husband, Jensen had promised.

War was… it was something else. There seemed to be some unending pool of young punks who forgot that there were still people at the other end of his scope. Jensen saw good men crumble with the hopelessness. Men that were unable to see that for every asshole who dared to sully the uniform he was wearing, there were ten more who were honest kids. There were men and women that were out there doing the right thing.

Jensen did his best, but it was hard being away from Jared. Digital communication, when they were allowed their scarce allotment of it, was reserved for family, and Jared wasn’t exactly recognized as that.

Jensen managed to send a letter here or there, and Jared managed to get letters back. They wrote in code, Jared pretending to be a concerned citizen, and Jensen not having to pretend to be the war veteran who wanted to come home.

Then Jensen’s tour came to an end. His superiors were both shocked and unhappy with his resignation, and he couldn’t blame them. He’d been pegged for a lifer. He’d been on the fast track to honorable service and more medals than you could shake a stick at.

But Jared was worth more than that, and he wasn’t going to sully what they had by using his homosexuality as an out. If he was straight, and Jared his wife, he’d have still done it. It was what Jared wanted, and Jensen was raised right. That was his spouse, and it was his job to make him happy.

The first people that Jensen sees as he deboards the plane are his family. His brother and sister and mother and father and his nieces and nephews are all clustered in with the family members of the other soldiers who are returning. There are poster board signs and balloons and streamers and even face paint on the little ones. Tears and smiles and none of it, heartwarming as it is, is what Jensen is looking for.

What he is looking for is standing over in the corner with the photographers and reporters and general well wishers. His tall frame towers above the little old ladies and shriveled former veterans who are there to show their support to the current generation of soldiers.

But Jared’s height is the least of what makes him stand out. His shirt is a modest, for Jared anyway, shade of light lavender. His hair is long and soft and in complete contradiction to even the civilian males around him.

His jeans are distressed, and he is wearing brown flip flops, so their hems are already dirty from dragging on the ground. He is wearing his aviator sunglasses, but it isn’t for comfort or even some stupid Jared-esque fashion statement.

Jensen can see the faintly shiny trail of tears disappearing into Jared’s not-quite-shaved stubble, and just like that he could care less about propriety. He’s spent too long away from the man he loves. He’s spent too many nights listening to the far off and not so far off sound of mortar shells wondering if he’s ever be able to hear his husband’s voice again.

Distantly, he can hear the confused cries of his relatives as he breaks form and starts running in Jared’s direction. He can see the flashes of the cameras going off, and while a part of his mind is frantically screaming at him to grab his gun and aim at the threatening blasts of light, the real him is too focused on Jared to care.

His husband’s face is splitting into that beloved smile, and his arms are opening wide.

Jensen has a split second to find amusement in the fact that Jared actually has to squat a little to catch him before he’s fully launched himself into Jared’s arms.

It’s got to be heavy and uncomfortable. As much as Jared works out, he isn’t trained to have a six foot soldier and his travel bag hanging off him like a howler monkey.

But Jared doesn’t complain. His hands curl under Jensen’s thighs and ass while Jensen wraps his legs around his waist. Jensen clutches at Jared’s shoulder with one hand while he buries his fingers in that stupid, floppy hair with the other.

Having to tilt his head down to take his kiss is weird. He’s never been taller than Jared before, but the first brush of their lips together erases the uncomfortable feeling. The touch is familiar. Jensen’s spent too many nights longing for it, too many nights waiting for lights out so that he could reach under the covers and touch himself to the memories of his husband’s scent and smile. He’s spent too many hours keeping quiet so that nobody could hear him moaning Jared’s name during climax.

He’s aware of the disapproving tsks of some of the older folks along with the excited titter of teenage girls who are enjoying the sight of two good looking men making out more than their elder counterparts.

Finally, he breaks the kiss. He reaches down to push Jared’s sunglasses off his nose and up into his hair. The beloved hazel eyes are puffy and red rimmed and just as horribly unattractive as the last time that Jensen saw them that way, but the happiness shining out of them is unmistakable.

There is some shouting and what sounds like Jensen’s last name being taken in vain, and out of the corner of his eye, Jensen can see his family coming over.

Jared must notice it too because he gently sets Jensen back down on his feet. Leaning forward, he steals another kiss form Jensen’s lips before grabbing at Jensen’s hand and giving that a kiss too.

“Come on,” he says in his stupid, loveable San Antonio accent, “why don’t you introduce me to my in-laws?”


End file.
